


Interlude III: Amicus Curiae

by Lucy Gillam (cereta)



Series: Hanging Work [14]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:59:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereta/pseuds/Lucy%20Gillam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two tickets to a circus never used, a little boy forgotten, and a chance meeting. Of such things are legends made. Part XIV of the Hanging Work Series.</p><p>Aftermaths and transitions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude III: Amicus Curiae

Headline of the _Daily Planet_ (Lois Lane byline)  
 **Gotham Ravaged by Quake**

An earthquake measuring more than 7.5 on the Richter Scale devastated Gotham City last night in the city's worst disaster ever. Loss of life and property are still unknown as emergency crews race from neighboring cities, and the National Guard has been mobilized to aid the city.

The quake began at approximately midnight…

~~~

Dick was sure the water would rise above his head before he could get out.

They'd managed to get all the people out of the pocket formed when the street collapsed, including the little kid with his frog light, but the water was coming up fast, and in hoisting the last person (said kid's mother) out, he had lost his solid footing and slid down nearly ten feet. The water was already up to his waist and gaining two feet for every one he managed to climb.

Still, there was nothing for it but to try, and be glad that he'd gotten Mom out before falling. He couldn't regret it even if he tried.

Just as the water was reaching his chin and he knew he couldn't find another handhold in time, a hand grabbed his wrist in a grip that brought back all the trust of his childhood. Instinct caused him to turn his hand in a matching grip to help support his own weight as he was pulled up and out of the crevice.

Batman's face was grim and set he pushed himself to his feet, leaving Dick to do the same.

"Dude, we thought you were a goner!" one of the men he'd helped out earlier exclaimed. He still had Batman's belt in a death-grip as part of a line of anchors.

Dick grinned at Batman, wringing his hands to get the water out of his gloves.

"Take more than a little water to do that."

~~~

Batman watched as Grayson pointed the small group of people towards the nearest set of emergency workers. It hadn't taken him more than a few hours to realize that, however inclined the people of Gotham were to trust the Bat symbol, Dick was simply better at this part than he was. The little boy with the frog light was even smiling.

The smile was almost enough to make him forget seeing the water rushing up faster than Grayson could climb out of the crevice. Or, for that matter, that it was unlikely to be the last close call they had before the night was through. The day. However long…

For what had to been the hundredth time that night, Batman looked out on the devastation that was his city and wondered how he was ever going to do all that needed to be done.

A cleared throat behind him pulled him back.

"So, now what?" Dick asked.

Batman thought for a moment. Alfred had already fought his way through the ruins of Wayne Manor when Batman finally reached him an hour ago, and he'd insisted on heading towards Leslie's clinic. It would be a good immediate destination, and there were sure to be things that needed attention between here and there.

"East. We'll head east."

~~~

  
Headline of _Blud News_

 **Gotham Quake Death Toll Continues to Rise  
Citizens Urged to Evacuate**

With the death toll from Gotham's quake now in the thousands, officials are urging those still in the city to evacuate as quickly as possible. Emergency crews continue to look for survivors, and the Red Cross has set up emergency shelters north and south of the city.

Meanwhile, Bludhaven officials are preparing for an influx of Gotham's displaced citizens. Police Chief Delmore Redhorn says that his department is doing everything it can to get ready…

~~~

Selina hadn't hugged him quite this hard since he was seventeen and spent nearly two days dodging angry drug smugglers after accidentally stealing some statues they'd been using to sneak cocaine into the U.S., not daring to contact her for fear of leading them to her.

This was probably worse.

It had taken three days to find Selina, or more precisely, for her to find him. It wasn't that he hadn't looked, but he did keep getting distracted, and in fairness, it sounded like she had, too, doing much the same thing he had. Her costume was torn, her face dirty, and he could tell by the circles under her eyes that she'd had as bad a time of it as anyone.

"Right," she said pulling back. "We'll probably want to head to Bludhaven first. It may take a few days to access our accounts without ID, so we'll need that; you know someone there who can…"

"Selina," he said quietly.

"…and clothes, of course, well, there are stores on the way…"

"Selina!"

She blinked. "Oh, sorry, sweetie, you had another idea?"

Dick took a deep breath. "I'm not leaving yet." He waited for the explosion.

Instead, there was only a moment of quiet, and then, "Can I ask why not?"

"Because people here still need help, and I can help them. I'll go eventually, when…" he gestured vaguely, "whoever gets things like this under control gets it under control."

She nodded. "And you'll know when that is how?"

He felt himself flush. He had never been able to fool her even for a minute. He would, someday. Maybe. "I'll know."

"Mmm-hmm. Maybe someone else will tell you? Someone tall, dark, and broody?"

Dick sighed. "This isn't about him. All right," he added, cutting off what he knew she was about to say, "I was with him when the quake hit, and yes, we've been working together since then. But I'm not staying for him. Give me a little more credit than that. If nothing else, you raised me better," he added with a smile.

Now it was her turn to sigh. "Yes, I did," she said, raising one hand to his face. "And I just had to go encouraging that conscience of yours. I knew it would come back to bite me sooner or later." She used her thumb to wipe what he assumed was a smudge of dirt from under his eye, something she hadn't done since he reached her height at sixteen. "It's not even your city, sweetie. Not really. It hasn't exactly been good to you."

"No," he admitted. "But it hasn't been bad to me for a long time, and anyway, it's not… I can't explain it, Selina, but I know I need to stay." He silently pleaded for her to understand.

"Oh, sweetie," she sighed. "You just… You have to promise me… People are _dying_ , Dick. I've seen people die."

Dick swallowed hard. "I have, too. And I promise, I'll be careful."

"You'd better." She frowned, her eyes overbright. "I should… If you're staying…"

Dick shook his head. "If you want to help, you should go and start playing the society lady. You have friends with money. And, you know, other ways of getting it. That's important, now."

Selina nodded, and reached up to ruffle his hair. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Tell Batman that if I don't get you back safe, I'll scratch his eyes out."

~~~

Batman did not react to the faint sound of someone landing behind him on the roof. It was a WayneTech building, and as such, one of the few still standing in the area. He'd been here only a few minutes himself, cutting his arrival as close to the time arranged as possible.

"What did she say?" he asked.

He was answered with a sigh. "Well, she wasn't happy about it, but I didn't expect her to be. She's heading for New York for now."

Batman nodded. He ignored any relief that Dick Grayson had returned from his meeting with Catwoman, ignored any sense that he'd been worried Dick might not come back, and very definitely ignored the voice that sounded a little like Alfred, telling him that he should have told the boy to go with her.

"So," Grayson said as he had so many times in the last three days, "now what? And please tell me it doesn't involve dodging bullets shot by a wooden dummy."

To his own amazement, Batman almost smiled. "I doubt it."

~~~

 _Front page of Red Cross Web Site_

Make an appointment to donate blood TODAY!  
Call 1-800-Give-Life or visit Givelife.org!

 **Blood and Medical Supplies Needed in Gotham  
Critical Shortages!**

To donate to the Gotham Relief Fund, please follow these instructions:  
(Hyperlink)

  
~~~

"…only eighteen, and he doesn't have to be here."

Dr. Leslie Tompkins in full mode was a sight to behold, and Dick very carefully stayed several feet away from where the three-way argument was raging.

"And I told you, I'm not leaving! You need help, and I'm not gonna sit in some prep school in Metropolis while you're here by yourself."

Batman had spoken of the kid as if he were someone Dick should know, but the name went right over his head. The face looked vaguely familiar, but that didn't really mean much anymore. For that matter, he wasn't entirely sure how Batman knew Dr. Leslie, although she clearly knew him, and seemed to feel free to address him as if he were a slightly recalcitrant ten-year-old. That was pretty funny.

"Jason, honey, I'm proud that you want to help, but I'm not alone. I have B-- Batman to help me, and all these other people, too." Dr. Tompkins turned to Batman. "Please, tell him."

"He's old enough to make his own decisions," Batman said, and suddenly Dick had a feeling he wasn't talking just about the kid anymore.

~~~

Batman resisted the temptation to pinch the bridge of his nose. Showing the slightest sign of fatigue while Leslie could still see him would be a mistake. She seemed engrossed in arguing with Jason, but he had no doubt that she would notice.

Dick seemed content at the moment to sit on the ground eating one of the protein bars they had brought to the clinic, so Batman slipped into the side tent Alfred had disappeared into upon Batman's arrival.

Alfred was checking the IV of a child who was either unconscious or asleep.

"I'm relieved to see you, sir," he said quietly.

"Likewise." It was completely inadequate, but Alfred would understand.

Alfred began gathering up bandages. "The young man you arrived with. Miss Kyle's companion, I believe."

"He was…" Batman frowned. Alfred was unlikely to comment, no matter what he said, but he found himself reluctant to admit that he'd been stopping Dick from robbing a store when the quake hit. "…nearby when the quake happened. He's been helping."

As expected, Alfred merely said, "I'm gratified to know you have help, sir."

~~~

 _Front page of www.takeoffthemasks.com_   
_Gotham Quake Plot by Metahumans!  
Batman Part of Conspiracy, or Brave Defedner?_

The recent quake in Gotham City is just one more strike in the metahuman war on the United State of America. While there is no doubt that the quake itself was caused by these so-called "heroes" (see Superman: Friend or Invader?), the question on everyone's mind is whether this Batman is on the side of his In-Justice League friends, or if the quake was retaliation for his defense of normal humans against outside influences.

~~~

Dick had never thought that plain, simple water could taste quite so good. At least not since he'd been eight, accepting a large cup from his mom after a hard practice.

But in a week when getting fresh water had been far from as simple as turning on a tap, opening a bottle of clear, purified H2O had become one the few real pleasures available. As he returned to the abandoned warehouse he and Batman had been using to grab what little sleep either had gotten and to meet again after splitting up, he allowed himself to down an entire bottle, enjoying it as much as he'd once enjoyed a pint of Bass after a long night's work. After nearly thirteen solid hours of getting people to rescue crews and emergency centers, of convincing random thugs that they didn't _really_ need whatever it was they were taking from whoever it was they were taking it from, he owed himself a good, long drink.

"…not something you can fix."

Batman's voice was coming from the office in which they'd set up occupancy. Dick had come in on conversations before, Batman talking to someone over some kind of radio or something, and he suspected Batman was meeting with at least one other person from time to time. He hadn't asked. The man had his secrets, and it wasn't Dick's place to push him on them.

Well, yet, anyway.

"I'm not asking your permission, you know."

It was the second voice that took Dick by surprise. He'd heard that voice before, hadn't he? He ducked behind a pile of crates, trying to see through the dirty glass of the office walls.

"I'm already coordinating with the rescue crews," the voice continued, and Dick managed to sort out the large blue and red blur inside the office as a person. Blue and…

"Oh, man," he breathed before he could stop himself.

Or, more precisely, Superman.

His one meeting with Superman seven years ago had been brief enough, little more than a yank on the collar and a quick ride to somewhere that Luthor's goons weren't, but, well, you didn't forget meeting Superman. Besides, it had provided _weeks_ worth of fantasy material.

"I'm going to help, but if you don't want me working with you, that's fine, too. I'll leave as soon as the rescue crews say they don't need me anymore."

There was no answer, and Dick heard a sigh and the opening of the office door.

Superman, _Superman_ , winked at him as he walked by. There was a man who made one appreciate the wearing of a costume.

Dick went into the office. Batman was standing at his usual spot in front of the map of Gotham he'd put up four days ago.

"So…" Dick said. "That was Superman." Oh, yeah, smooth.

"Yes."

Dick nodded. Clearly, the man was in a mood, although it was sometimes hard to tell the difference between when he was and when he wasn't -- if he ever wasn't in one. "And you sent him away."

"Yes."

"You sent away _Superman_."

Batman turned, very slowly, to look at him.

Dick sighed. "Right. So, what's the plan?"

Batman turned back to the map. "How well do you know Tricorners?"

~~~

By the third time Dick looked in the direction Superman had gone, Batman was having to work very hard to avoid commenting. It wouldn't help matters to say anything.

He was used to people reacting that way when Superman was around. The immediate awe, the willingness to hand over all action and responsibility, the hero-worship shining from faces. Dick's reaction was only typical, and it didn't bother him. At all.

And he wasn't going to stand here explaining why, while Superman was no doubt of tremendous help to the rescue crews, it would be a bad idea to bring him into their own efforts. Why his particular brand of assistance would not solve the problems they were tackling, why becoming dependent on him was as dangerous as it was tempting.

"The police are trying to evacuate this area, but the gangs are interfering," he said instead, focusing his attention on the map in front of him.

Dick nodded. "So we interfere with the interference?"

"That would be the plan."

~~~

 _Article on cnn.com_

 **Families Search for Missing Loved Ones in Aftermath of Quake**

Despite request by government officials to stay away while emergency crews continue their work, relatives of missing Gothamites continue to arrive in the area surrounding the devastated city in hopes of locating their missing family members.

"It's been a week, and we haven't heard anything," said Betty Carmody of Dayton, Ohio. Mrs. Carmody's son, Jack, who moved to Gotham a year ago, is among the missing. She arrived at the northern emergency center yesterday and has been distributing flyers with Jack's picture to survivors.

~~~

Dick looked at the watch the man was wearing almost out of reflex. He didn't take it, of course, even though the big guy currently lying on the broken street was almost certainly not the original owner. But he looked.

"Damn. Is it…" He looked over to where Batman was securing the other two gang members. "It's been ten days since the quake. Ten days."

Batman looked over and nodded curtly.

"I didn't think it had been that long." Ten days. Ten days of rescues and fights and almost no sleep.

"It's easy to lose track," Batman answered.

Dick pushed the hair off his forehead. No wonder he was doing that so often. He'd needed a cut even before the quake had hit. Selina had been nagging him about it, in fact.

Selina. "Oh, man. She must be worried."

Batman didn't ask who he meant, but looked away for a moment.

"We should get some rest," he said finally. "Regroup a bit."

Dick nodded. He _was_ tired, although that was pretty much a constant anymore.

Ten days.

  
~~~

He waited until he was sure Dick was sleeping soundly before taking Bruce Wayne's cell phone from the compartment on his belt. The first few times Dick had grabbed a few hours of sleep he'd slept lightly, waking at the slightest sound, but over the last few days he'd taken to falling into a near-comatose state for the brief periods he slept. Batman was going to have to talk to him about that, but for now, it was useful.

Still, he went to other end of the warehouse before turning the phone on and looking for Lucius Fox's number. There was no point in taking unnecessary chances. He very determinedly ignored the voice asking him if it wouldn't safer to do this when Dick was out of the building entirely.

For a moment, he wasn't sure his cell would work, but of course the tower he'd had built last year was fortified against the quake. He spared a thought for Dick's obvious desire to contact Selina, but pushed it away. This wasn't the time.

It only took two rings. "Bruce? Bruce, where the hell are you?"

It wasn't his first call to Lucius, of course. He'd spoken to him twice since the quake, each time reassuring him that Bruce Wayne was safe and ready to do whatever was necessary to get Gotham back on its feet. From a comfortable distance, of course. A lifetime of swallowing the gall such statements raised both in himself and others was coming in handy.

"I'm in New York, Lucius. Terrible accommodations, really, but I suppose we have to make allowances. What's the word from Washington?"

"Nothing definite yet, but you'd better get here," Fox replied, the tiredness in his voice evident even over the phone. "Our best guess is that they'll decide something next week, or decide to decide, anyway. Damn bureaucrats don't seem to realize the city is dying."

"Well, I'm sure they're doing their best." From the cheerful tone, no one would have guessed that the hand holding the cell phone was nearly cracking the plastic.

"Well, you should get here as soon as you can. We'll have your remarks ready. And keep your damn phone on, Bruce."

"I'll try, Lucius. I should be there tomorrow evening, if you can have a room ready for me. And you should get some sleep." Please, just hang up now.

"Right." The resignation came through in waves. "Take care, Bruce."

The connection cut off, and Batman very carefully turned off the phone and placed it in his belt, just before putting his fist into the nearest wall.

~~~

Headline of the _Daily Planet_ (Lois Lane byline)  
 **Congress to Hold Hearings on Fate of Gotham**

In the aftermath of the earthquake that devastated Gotham and destroyed much of its infrastructure, Congress has scheduled hearings to determine the future of the city. According to inside sources, the government is considering abandoning plans to rebuild, and instead declaring the area uninhabitable.

Among those scheduled to testify at the hearing are urban planning expert Dr. Cynthia Stoddard, Gotham Mayor Marion Grange, and industrialist Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Industries and Gotham's most prominent citizen. Dr. Stoddard is expected to testify that rebuilding Gotham would require more resources than relocating the people and industries, and advise that rebuilding not be undertaken.

Opposing this course of action…

~~~

It was nearly 10:00 a.m. when Dick finally stumbled back into the warehouse. The night had been a truly unsatisfying one. He'd spent much of it in the East End near the shelter, which had already been taken over by a newly-formed gang. He'd recognized too many of the kids he'd once played basketball with on Tuesday nights among them.

He was looking forward to the pallet he'd been using for the last week and a half, during the few times he slept. Maybe he'd actually get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep before Batman…

Dick looked around the room. It wasn't that Batman wasn't there. He _wasn't_ , but that wasn't really unusual. It was everything else that wasn't there. Maps. Equipment. The second sleeping bag.

All that was left was his own sleeping bag and pillow, one last box of bottled water, and a small pile of protein bars.

Well, shit.

Dick looked around the room. There were no signs of a struggle, although it would be hard to tell, he supposed. But thieves would be unlikely to leave anything, let alone this particular set of stuff.

There had to be something. Okay, Batman was too smart to leave a note out in the open, but there had to be _something_.

He was almost embarrassed at how long it took him to spot it, but really, he hadn't paid much attention to the childish drawings put up by the office's former occupant. Now, amidst the pictures of rainbows and houses, and stick figures carefully labeled "Mommy" and "Dady," was a stick figure with cat ears, drawn in purple. He was pretty sure it hadn't been there before. That he would have noticed.

He peeled the picture from the wall, and sure enough, there was an envelope taped behind it.

The neat stack of bills caught his attention first, and he thumbed through it, estimating there to be about ten grand. Well, he'd always figured Batman had money. You didn't get equipment like that on minimum wage.

With the money was a handwritten note, the block letters neat and anonymous.

 _Will be gone indefinitely_ , it said. _Get out of Gotham as soon as you're able._

Well, shit. Wasn't that just…just… _Batman_. Shit


End file.
